


Love is a verb

by Florchis



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 4x05 spoilers, Coda Challenge, F/M, lockup spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 20:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8416375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/pseuds/Florchis
Summary: [4X05 SPOILERS]Fitz and Jemma have a conversation to settle their argument in the lab.





	

She is so high in pent-up anxiety that she can’t fathom the idea of sleep, so she decides to wait for Fitz awake.

She removes her make-up in the bathroom and when she sees her own face on the mirror, it doesn’t look like a person that triumphs. She mostly looks like- and feels like- a person who needs a long vacation, and probably a nap.

Maybe it’s the anxiety, maybe it’s all the things that are still unclear between them, maybe it’s her who is uncomfortable in her own skin, but she can’t wait for Fitz in their bedroom, where everything reminds her of him, every light represents his smile, every blanket represents his warm, every damn brick represents him.

It’s nice to traverse the Playground at night, barefoot and in her pyjamas. It makes her feel a little like before- she doesn’t even know why that is a comfort: she can’t remember one simple breathing moment when something wasn’t at stake: either Fitz weren’t talking to her, or “Real SHIELD” had taken over, or she was suffering from severe PTSD, or Daisy had been taken by Hive, _or_. She can’t remember a simpler time ever since five minutes after joining Coulson’s team.

She makes a peppermint tea and sits on the counter to drink it with her eyes closed. Maybe that is what she needs: five minutes to fool herself into believing that she doesn’t carry the weight of the world upon her shoulders. _God, Jemma, you must be really tired or really sad to start making Beatles references in your own head_.

They have a new home to plan, there is no lie detection in her near future and Daisy is back if under protest. Things are the littlest bit better than normal, but Jemma can find no consolation on this, and she has to wonder if life has worn her out that badly.

“Hey.”

She recognizes his voice instantly, but she opens her eyes anyway, because she didn’t even hear his footsteps or his breathing; what a spy she is.

He is keeping his distance, but he looks equal parts exhausted and hopeful, so she throws him a bone.

“The water in the kettle is still warm.”

“Thanks.”

She watches his face carefully and tries to guess which tea he will choose based solely on his micro-expressions. Peach rose. _Jackpot_.           

With a mug in his hands, he opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but remains silent, and holds one hand in the air in a mid-gesture that doesn’t mean anything. Sometimes she wonders if he still loses his words only with her. She waits him out, not only out of respect, but because she doesn’t know what he wants to say.

“I’m sorry, Jemma.” She acknowledges his apologies with a nod, but remains silent. “I’m still not sure what do you wanted me to do about this whole mess, but I’ve upset you, and I never want to do that.”

Okay, he doesn’t understand, but he is trying, and she can’t blame him, because she barely understands herself. She puts down her mug and uncrosses her legs, and he understands it immediately and forgets his tea in favour of standing in front of her, each one of his hands beside one of her thighs.

“I’m sorry too. It was a no-win situation and it was unfair of me to put you in that position.” He doesn’t answer, but one of his thumbs just barely strokes the side of her leg and she shivers. “Do you want me to tell you why I was upset?”

He closes his eyes but his caresses don’t stop, and his voice is still soft.

“Please.”

“One. I was mad at you for not telling me and I was also mad for knowing. That is on me. But mostly I was mad because yes, _it_ is fascinating, and _yes_ , you didn’t ask for Radcliffe to thrust this on your face, but it seemed like you cared most about _it_ , than about what it could cost _me_. I was talking about getting fired and I was terrified about being sent into _bloody prison_ and you didn’t care.”

“Jemma, I-”

“No. I’m not finished. Please, hear me out first. Two. I know I brought this on to myself because I chose to take this job with everything it implied. I know I’m a grown-up woman who can and does take her own decisions. I know everything has consequences. I know there is a ton of irregularities and mistakes and abnormalities and just _plain crap_ that I have to deal with. I know it and I did deal with it, I do deal with it and I will deal with it. I know we lead the craziest lives, and nothing, _ever_ , has been easy for us. But even though all of that is true, I still sometimes need my _boyfriend_ to hold me and tell me that everything will be okay, do you understand?”

She expected to see tension on his features, maybe anger too, but she didn’t expect the devastating sadness.

“I do understand. Jemma, I-I, you need to know, you _have_ to know, that I didn’t know that any of that’d hurt you, If I had known I’d have never done it. Any of it. The last thing I want is to be one more burden on the ginormous list of things you have in your plate.”

She can’t shake her head fast enough.

“No, Fitz. We have been over this; I never want you talking about yourself like that, okay? Yes, maybe we haven’t taken the smartest choices lately, and yes, maybe we’re a little bit out of synch, which is hilarious considering how people usually talk about us being physically linked.”

He gets the tiniest bit closer to her, and she encourages him with half a smile.

“The other day I, uhmm, I was reading something and I, I didn’t understand it then, but I think I do now.”

“What were you reading?”

“Mmm, something, something about how love is a verb and not a noun. And I thought it was, silly, because it can be both, you know? And maybe it’s a bit of a cheesy understatement, but I think I get now the idea behind it all.”

Maybe life has worn her out _that_ badly, maybe she _does_ carry the world upon her shoulders, buy anyhow this man still has the amazing gift of making her feel warm all over her body with a silly John Mayer’s song.

“Yes, I think it’s important to remember that it’s a verb, because it’s something that we choose to do, it’s something that needs work and because every action has a reaction.”

He huffs and she is glad that it’s something that needs work, that at least to her loving isn’t something as easy as breathing, because she likes the reminder that there are things still worth everything on this life, she is glad that love is something to remind her that she is alive, and she _loves_ that she gets to do all of this with this remarkable if sometimes clueless man.

“I can’t believe you’re throwing newtonian physics at me.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Can I give you that hug now?”

“Yes, please.”

He is, as usual, warm against her cold body, and this is why she took this bloody job and why she fights and why she lies and why she blackmails people and why she still stays here even though it’s not exactly what she wants and maybe what she should do. She lies so Daisy can come at her when in need. She blackmails people so Elena can choose when and where to fight her fights. She took this job so she could save May’s life. She fought and she fights and she will keep on fighting because at the end of the day she knows she has him to come home to.

She can be the one to play dirty and the one to get her hands messy and even bloody, and she could do it without a safenet, but she can be more reckless and more fierce knowing she has one.

“For two people as good at talking as we are, we are not the best at communicating, yeah?”

The ghost of his breath tickles her neck and there is still a million things they need to talk about- some of them even good news- but he smells of sweat and sleep and his tea is already freezing, and her hands find one of their favourite spots below his ribcage and thankfully they will still have time tomorrow.

“Fitz, take me to bed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

**Author's Note:**

> If I die having a "Love is a verb" fic for every one of my fictional couples, my fandom life will be complete.


End file.
